Danger and Honesty
by BlackFox12
Summary: Follows Damaged Goods. Slade and Oliver talk about their relationship. Contains slash and spanking. Don't like? Don't read


**Danger and Honesty**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** Follows Damaged Goods. Slade and Oliver talk about their relationship.

**Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to the end of series two of Arrow; explicit sex scenes between two men; violence; swearing

* * *

Slade might have agreed with Oliver that they needed to talk about their relationship, but as he sat next to the younger man, he found himself at a loss about what to say. In many ways, it had been easier when he'd lost his memories... because he hadn't had to deal with those conflicting emotions that Oliver triggered in him.

"You want me to start?" Oliver asked, breaking into Slade's thoughts.

"I'm not even sure _where_ to start." And Slade couldn't approach this the same way he would most other things in his life.

There was silence for a long moment and then Oliver spoke. "A woman tried to hit on me in the bar."

"I saw," Slade said evenly. He took a large gulp of whiskey as he tore his mind away from what would have happened if Oliver _had_ taken the woman up on what she was offering.

"I thought about doing it, you know. This thing between us... we've never talked about it. We never talked about if we're in a relationship or, you know, just fuck buddies."

Slade was silent as he absorbed that. It didn't take much imagining to guess how he might have reacted if Oliver _had_ taken the woman home. "I know you don't trust me."

Oliver was shaking his head. "I didn't trust you after you changed. When you lost your mind due to the Mirakuru. I wasn't sure before, but even after you'd lost your memories, you still chose to sleep with me. When you stopped me outside the bar, you had the opportunity to really hurt me. You didn't take it."

Slade looked away, unwilling to face the emotions the thought of hurting Oliver raised in him. "You're already so broken, kid, no torture I could possibly devise is going to hurt you more."

Oliver didn't bother even trying to deny Slade's words. But he did ask, "So where do we stand?"

"If you ever decide to take a woman home, I'll come after you and make you sorry." Slade paused and then added, "The same goes if you take a man home." He knew that, outside of himself, Oliver wasn't generally attracted to men... but he wanted to put it out there.

Oliver nodded. "The same applies to you, then."

"I'm not going to tell you do something I'm not willing to do myself." Slade paused, wondering if he should tell Oliver that the younger man had become important to him... _had_ _been_ important to him since they'd first met on the island. But he wasn't sure he was ready to be that vulnerable. And even if they were talking about being exclusive, it didn't mean that, for Oliver, the emotions ran any deeper than mutual respect and trust.

Though thinking of trust... Slade knew that he had to talk to Oliver about that. "Things are different from the island."

"You don't say."

Slade looked at Oliver, noticing the look the other man was giving him. It was a look that promised a long, passion-filled night. And if Slade responded to that look, the conversation would be over. They would spend the rest of the evening, and probably most of the night, having sex.

"You can't trust me."

The words hung in the air between them. Oliver didn't look surprised, but Slade _felt_ him beginning to withdraw. Even though it wasn't physical, Slade reached out and placed his hand on Oliver's shoulder. "This isn't a warning. I'm not going to try and hurt you. Or the people closest to you."

"You don't trust yourself." Oliver's shoulder was bunched with tension under Slade's hand.

"You saw what I am."

Oliver shook his head. "That wasn't you. It wasn't the Slade I know."

"I'm not sure if the Slade you knew exists anymore." Slade wasn't sure why he was telling Oliver this, except... he wanted the other man to know what he was getting himself into. "Don't let your guard down around me. If it comes to a choice between saving yourself and letting me live... I need to know you'll make that choice."

A strange look came over Oliver's face. The kid was much harder to read than he had been on the island, but for a split second, Slade saw a hint of vulnerability, gone as fast as it had appeared. A more determined look came over his face. "You need to see your son."

Slade sighed, releasing Oliver's shoulder. "I'm not ready yet."

"When will you be ready?" Oliver asked. "Even if you don't go and actually see him... he needs to know that you're still alive. I would have suggested you go when you didn't have your memories."

Slade didn't need Oliver to continue. There had been too many unknowns when he lost his memories and there was no part of him that wanted to endanger his son. Perhaps sending a message could be a compromise, though... at least until he could trust himself. "I'd like you to come with me to see him. When I'm ready."

The look that came over Oliver's face then was almost comical. "I'm not sure you'd want the man you're sleeping with to meet your son."

Sleeping with... it seemed a tame term for what was between the two of them. Slade still didn't know how he felt. Not really. The fact that he'd been attracted to Oliver even without his memories was confusing... but that was a word that could be applied to the myriad of feelings Oliver Queen raised in him... and had done from the beginning, when he'd proved himself to be a survivor.

"If we're both still alive... I'd like you to meet him." Slade found himself growing uncomfortable. He wasn't a man prone to discussing his feelings. And it occurred to him that, if this conversation continued, he might well put himself in a more vulnerable position than he wanted to be.

Slade shifted closer to Oliver, reaching out and lightly ghosting his fingers over the younger man's face, letting them drift lower so that he was stroking over Oliver's neck... and then he was lightly scratching over Oliver's skin, even as he slipped his hand inside his shirt, circling over the other man's nipples with the tip of his nails.

Oliver reacted instantly, arching forward into Slade's touch. He was close enough to kiss... and Slade shifted forward so that he could do that, pressing his lips against Oliver's. He kissed him hard, though not with quite bruising force... and then pulled away so that he could nip lightly over Oliver's jaw and along his throat, using his free hand to guide Oliver's head for better access.

Oliver's warm hands sliding under Slade's shirt and over his torso indicated that he wasn't sitting idly. The movements did pause a moment, though, as Slade picked a spot on Oliver's neck to nip at, using just enough pressure from his teeth to spark the pleasure-pain response.

Although the younger man didn't make a sound, Slade felt the exhalation of breath on his cheek. He slipped his hands into the waistband of Oliver's pants, stroking over the other man's hardness.

Oliver made a little sound that might have been a protest, before he was pushing down his pants, sliding them over his hips along with his underwear to free himself fully to Slade's ministrations.

Slade pulled his hands away, smiling as he heard the muffled grunt of protest, and slid his hands under Oliver's shirt once more, gliding over bare skin and then leaning forward so that his lips could follow the path of his hands, shoving Oliver's shirt off and out of the way.

Now that Oliver was completely naked, Slade stroked gently along the inner thighs, teasing the younger man by avoiding the place Oliver _really_ wanted his hands to go.

Oliver leaned forward and kissed Slade deeply, nipping at his lips and then pushing him against the arm of the couch. It dug into Slade's back, but he ignored that discomfort so that he could respond to Oliver's touches and kisses.

It wasn't long before his own clothes came off.

* * *

Sometime during the night, the two of them had moved to the bedroom. Now, Oliver lay with his head on Slade's chest, asleep. Slade couldn't stop his fingers drifting over Oliver's hair and back. He wasn't trying to wake the other man up. In fact, he was very careful to keep the touches as light as a feather. Gentleness didn't come naturally to him... but he felt that he had to try. Even though Oliver was used to hard, rough, painful acts from him... Slade didn't want to do that anymore.

And the more he forced himself to be gentle, the easier it was becoming.

There wasn't going to be much time for them to relax. Slade knew the mercenaries were still out there... and they were going after the people of Starling City who couldn't defend themselves, killing them. The police, including Detective Lance, had hit innumerable dead ends.

And that was one of the main reasons why Oliver and Slade had intercepted the mercenaries the first time. And why they needed to follow the tracker the next night... when they were both well-rested and hadn't been drinking.

Slade sighed and let his eyes close. For a few short moments, he could pretend they were back on the island... where the only thing they had to worry about was escaping.

* * *

There had been more mercenaries this time. Slade and Oliver had managed to stop them from grabbing a homeless girl from the streets... but while Slade had been dealing with some of the men, Oliver had chased after the van.

And the kid was capable, but Slade had the feeling that the men were leading him into a trap.

Slade made short work of the men fighting him, but the van was gone... and Oliver, too. Slade looked around, spotting a motorbike that had been left at the side of the road. He quickly ran over to it, hotwiring the vehicle before getting on and grabbing out his phone, dialling a number and setting it to speaker as he began riding in the direction he'd glimpsed the van going in.

"Slade?" Felicity's voice sounded on the other end of the phone. "What's going on? Is Oliver with you?"

"Oliver took off after the mercs," Slade replied. "I need video feed from the tracking device."

"Sending now..."

Slade eyed the screen until he saw it change, showing a flashing dot that he assumed was the tracker. He hung up without bothering to say thank you or goodbye and began riding the motorbike, following the line on the tracker.

Slade had passed several blocks when he saw Oliver by the side of the road. He stopped the motorbike next to the other man and climbed off. "You lost them?"

"Something like that."

Slade frowned. Oliver was in the shadows and the hood was covering his face... but even through the disguised voice, Slade could hear the strain. He stepped over to Oliver. "Are you all right?"

Oliver stepped back. "I'm fine. We need to go after them."

"Yeah... you're not fine." Oliver was in shadow, but Slade could hear dripping and he reached out, grasping Oliver's arm. It might have said something to their relationship that Oliver stepped closer to him without a word of argument. Slade reached out to push the hood back off his face, surveying him without a word. "They beat you up?"

Oliver shrugged. "I've had worse."

Slade tried not to think about the kind of worse Oliver had suffered at his hands and drew him in closer. They were fairly secluded, but he still made sure not to push the hood completely off. He turned Oliver's arm over, looking at a deep cut that oozed blood. "You need to get this looked at."

"We need to go after them."

"_I'm_ going to go after them," Slade corrected. "You're going back to Felicity and Diggle. And then we're going to talk about you trying to hide your injuries from me and being willing to go after these mercs while you're injured."

"You're not going after them on your own."

Slade hesitated, surprised to hear Oliver giving him orders. But now that he thought about it, he wanted to make sure that Oliver did actually get himself treated. It was frustrating that they couldn't immediately go after the mercenaries, though, and he made eye contact with Oliver. "I think we should drop the tracker to the police."

"It'll take them too long to do anything."

Slade shook his head. "Not if we drop it to Detective Lance. That way, something will be done... and they'll have the tracker." Of course, there was always the possibility that the guys in the van had found the tracker and disposed of it... but if they had, then nothing they did would make a difference. "I'll give him a call while we're on the way to get those injuries checked out."

* * *

By the time they got back to Slade's apartment, it was close to dawn. Slade had stitched up the cut in Oliver's arm, since they couldn't explain the injuries away at a hospital, and although the other man had a black eye and bruises and cuts, there was nothing else that was serious.

Oliver stepped through to the living room and Slade followed him. He moved over to sit down at the couch and looked at Oliver. "I don't think we need to discuss this any longer."

Oliver nodded and sat down next to Slade. He took off the hood and put it down with a sigh, before looking at Slade. "I know I'm in trouble with you, but if I'm not supposed to be going after those mercs when I'm injured... well, you shouldn't be going after them on your own."

Slade looked at Oliver, holding eye contact with the younger man. "You're right," he agreed. "We both need to be more careful." He hesitated, wondering if he should point out the possibility that they might need to switch roles in the future... but he was reluctant to say that to Oliver and, instead, reached for his lover's uninjured arm, pulling Oliver forward and across his lap.

Oliver shifted, but didn't try to pull away. Slade allowed himself a moment to feel the other man across his lap... to know that he was here and safe... and then tugged his pants and boxers down to bare his backside.

Slade brought his hand down in a crisp swat, waiting a beat before he landed a matching one on the other side. He continued in this slow, unhurried vein... bringing his hand down hard, first on one cheek and then the opposite one. He continued like that down to Oliver's thighs, before he started over from the crest of Oliver's backside, swatting a bit harder... but keeping the same speed.

Oliver shifted slightly, but other than a slight grunt when Slade's hand landed on a particularly sensitive area, he showed no reaction to the spanking. Even when Slade shifted him forward so that he could target Oliver's sit spots, it produced minimal reaction from him.

For several long moments, the only sound in the room was Slade's hand swatting Oliver and the younger man's stifled grunts and groans of pain. By the time Slade paused, Oliver's entire backside was a uniform red and he was twitching slightly when Slade's hand landed on a sore spot.

Slade rested his hand gently on Oliver's back as he reached over to the quiver of arrows, selecting a sturdy one and lifting it out. He held the arrow-head in his hand as he rested the shaft against Oliver's bottom. "You've grown too used to acting on your own. But you aren't on your own. I might not trust myself... but as long as you trust me, I know I can keep you safe. That means this will happen again. Each time it needs to." He waited, to be sure that Oliver had heard him, and then landed the first strike.

A sharp intake of breath was the only reaction Slade could hear... though there was a wet sound to the breath. He brought the shaft down again, just below the first, and then a third time, careful not to cross the strikes over each other.

Oliver slumped over Slade's lap as a full dozen strikes were delivered. Even though he wasn't making much sound, Slade could tell that the punishment had done what he needed to and he put the arrow to one side before helping Oliver up, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him in close.

Oliver curled against Slade's side, wrapping his own arms around him in turn. He was silent for a few seconds and then spoke. "Slade?"

"Yeah?"

Slade felt the gentle brush of lips against his neck. "I do trust you."

**The End**


End file.
